


Supernova

by operahousehomicide



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Slice of Life, kylo's tantrums, post-TFA
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-09-05 04:41:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16803844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/operahousehomicide/pseuds/operahousehomicide
Summary: In which the Supreme Leader throws a fit similar to that of an imploding star, and Hux is the only person who can sufficiently calm him.





	Supernova

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Flaming_dumpster](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flaming_dumpster/gifts).



> Merry Christmas, I hope this is alright for you!

Ren was like an imploding star. Far too forceful to be anything but a massive source of destructive energy, he burnt himself from the inside out, snarling like some beast as he wielded his saber. The oh so familiar crackle of the unstable blades accompanied the acrid scent in the air – thousands of tiny supernovas taking place in the power that radiated, red, from the hilt in Ren’s hands.

It was always like this.

It had been a long day, of course. (It was always like that, too. Never a dull moment.) Hux’s day began promptly at 0600 hours, as it did every morning. The lights in his quarters responded to their automatic setting, flittering on from their nighty five-percent to their daytime ninety-percent. Anything past ninety was far too harsh. The sharpness of the light had always hurt Hux’s eyes, even during his Academy days, as he was accustomed to the brilliance of the sun being muted by the stormclouds of his youth.

As the lights came on, the scent of freshly-brewed caf began to waft about the room. Another automated perk of the General’s quarters, Hux no longer had to rely on a housekeeping droid to deliver his morning caffeine boost. Instead, a machine trickled quietly away on a stand in the corner of his sleeping room, tucked inconspicuously by the door.

The percentage of the lights slowly climbed, approaching their proper daylight setting, and by the time the caf had dribbled itself into a mug, Hux’s eyes were beginning to open. Swathed comfortably in his charcoal bedding and reluctant to leave the warmth of his blankets, Armitage was relieved to awake to a gentle ting from his datapad. Some mornings, or rather, anytime, really, he was torn from his sleep by the frantic blaring of ship-wide alarms – or worse, the chime of the alert tone he had set for personal contact by the Supreme Leader for his pad.

It was always a pleasure to have a quiet, easy few moments to come to his senses and wake up properly before facing the difficulties the day always inevitably laid before him. By 0630, Hux had risen from bed drunk his (first) morning caf, and scrolled through the messages on his datapad. Any urgent enough to garner his immediate attentions were attended to, and shortly afterwards, he was making his way into the fresher.

By the time the hour was up, he had dressed, picked any sort of offending lint off of his greatcoat sleeve, kissed Millicent square upon the crown of her head, and made his way to the bridge. As per usual, on his trek up through the bowels of the ship by way of lift, Lt. Dopheld Mitaka had met him in the hall and handed him his second cup of caf. He always took his second in a chrome tumbler marked with the insignia of the Order and his rank bands. It had been a gift, along with his promotion.

The reminder of Armitage’s morning was devoted to attending to the needs of the First Order. Finances, troop morale, training protocol, battle strategy, and of course, Ren, to say the least, were all subjects that usually required Hux’s oversight in the early hours of his day. He checked in with his high bridge command, altered the course of their fleet just slightly – “Only a click further starboard, please” – and assured himself that all was well onboard the Finalizer.

It took him a good few hours to get through all of the parsley tasks laid before him that day, and had only just finished his assigned (by himself, of course) lunch hour – although really, it was only a lunch fifteen – when it happened. Again.

Supreme Leader Ren was as unpredictable and volatile as his predecessor, if not more outwardly violent untoward his surroundings. The Order’s treasury advisors had opened a completely separate credit line in their budget for repairing internal damage, most often towards innocent bulkheads, shortly after Ren had come aboard.

The notification on his datapad came through mere seconds before a harried petty officer bypassed access with an emergency code to enter the bridge.

1256 K. REN [ OFFICERS DECK 3A ]

“General, sir. Supreme Leader Ren is…upset, again, sir.”

1257 K. REN [ NOW ]

Hux felt his entire body deflate, like the wind knocked from sails. And this morning had gone so well.

With a sharp click of his boot heel, Hux whirled, tucked his datapad under his arm, absentmindedly touched the hilt of his blaster where it lay under the lip of his greatcoat, and made off to the requested location.

Traversing several decks and levels of the Finalizer took even the officer of the highest clearance more than a few moments, and some time had passed before Hux was able to find the Supreme Leader sufficiently. And when he found him, it was to the grand sight of destruction. (Unfortunately, as per usual.)

The petty officer had briefed Armitage on what had set Ren off – something to do with a personal training sim, his Knights, a disagreement and files containing important information pertaining to Ren’s improvement being erased – and it had certainly not warranted such a reaction. But here Ren was, a dying star, imploding with excessive force and grandeur amongst the innocent bulkheads of the officer’s deck. Clearly he hadn’t made it far enough through the ship from the sim rooms to his quarters before going ballistic.

Hux’s eyes were immediately drawn to the snarling saber in Ren’s hand, the glare of her blade dancing a jagged edge across the unmarred metal of the bulkhead before her. Ren did not pause to acknowledge the General, instead continuing on his berserker path and raging another gauge into the nearest wall. They were alone. Hux had long since learned to leave the inclusion of troopers or officers far from this task.

Regardless of rank, his ability to soothe Ren came so much more naturally when they were alone. Armitage took his datapad from beneath his arm and set it delicately on the edge of the door panel. It would not teeter and fall unless Ren dislodged it with some blow hitting too close. As they were several paces apart, this would hopefully not occur. (Again. Hux so hated having a shattered screen impede his ability to access his coded-access files.)

With that little piece of business squared away, Armitage dropped his guard and took a careful step forward. “Kylo,” he began, wary but gentle in tone and inflection, one hand extended slightly, fingers now longer trembling as they once had when offered to the man before him.

This Ren was so different from his Kylo, and yet, all the same. Consumed by violent energy, Ren expended himself by slashing and hacking at the poor hallways, or oftentimes, resorting to his bare fists meeting the wall. His hair fell about his face like some dark halo, suspended by his uncontrolled use of the Force, much similar to the manner it did when they were alone.

Ren was so similar during those times. His brown eyes, deep and heavy with emotion, always gleamed so wetly, hardly matching the harsh cut of his furrowed brow. He made the same face enraged as he did when concentrating.

“What,” Spat Ren, drawing Hux’s attentions back to the present.

The saber came down in one last spectacular arch, sending sparks scattering before them. The blade stayed put for another heartbeat, quivering, before she retracted, and Ren paused to catch his breath.

“Kylo,” Armitage repeated, softer, the line of his brow smoothing out as his gaze softened. “Please settle.”

Ren looked for a moment as if he was going to break something. Himself, or Hux, perhaps, then, cast his eyes downward. Not ashamed, just. Quiet. His chest heaved, shoulders rising and falling with each breath he took. Armitage could hardly keep himself from exhaling in relief.

He took another step forward and extended his hand fully, offering it again. Kylo hesitated, just for a moment, than clipped the hilt of his saber to his belt and took Hux’s hand in his own. Ren’s hands were comically large in comparison to Hux’s, and it was always pleasant. Where once the size difference had stemmed fear, it now only attracted Armitage. He smiled softly, tried to appear welcoming. It was the middle of the day, and how he wished he could take Kylo to one of their quarters and retire for the evening. It sounded like a good day for a hot, old-style bath, some food to their chambers, and an early bedtime.

Kylo’s grip tightened briefly at the sight of Hux’s lips curling, and he looked down again, possibly actually ashamed of himself now. They used to engage in screaming matches when Kylo lost it in such a manner. Now, it was all Hux could do to draw Kylo close by that grip, and wrap him in a hug.

Standing taller than Hux, Ren let his chin drop to rest in the place where Armitage’s shoulder met his neck, the woolen collar of his greatcoat providing a sufficient refuge from Ren’s stressors. He nuzzled there quietly, under Hux’s jaw, and Hux’s arms came up to wrap around Kylo’s waist. To hold such power in his arms, the beating of that wild heart so close to his own, would ever be intoxicating.

The effect of their physical contact was instantaneous. Kylo, for lack of better term, melted into the embrace, and Hux was happy to hold him tighter. Kylo’s hands fisted in the back of Armitage’s greatcoat, and for several long moments, each other was all that they needed to be calm.

It was all they ever needed.

They had a budget line for Kylo’s tantrums, anyways.

And there would always been time for Hux to complete his daily work.


End file.
